Every day is an adventure

December 31, 2014

It's hard to believe that an entire year has already passed, and in some ways I can barely remember where I was a year ago at this time - frustrated, discouraged, injured, and unable to run, even though I was supposed to be embarking on my Boston 2o14 training plan.

As always, it's been a very full, very busy year, and it was definitely marked with some particularly momentous occasions, most notably Boston itself.

But when I look back, what marked this year the most was the friendships I've made and how I've changed as a person thanks to this sport that has become so irrevocably a part of my being.

My Boston 2014 training was the polar opposite of my Boston 2013 training. I was forced to abandon any and all time goals, and the only goal I was able to hold onto was finishing - crossing that finish line was ALL that mattered. Well, that's actually not completely true - crossing that finish line and having the happy, celebratory post-race experience that I had been envisioning since 2012 - that's all that mattered.

And thankfully that's what I got. The race was very difficult for me, both mentally and physically, but emotionally, it was everything that I needed it to be. It was cathartic, it provided me some sense of closure, it enabled me to move on, and it gave me back my finish line. It was a very long, very uncertain road that I took to get there, but I never wavered, and my perseverance paid off, and that entire experience absolutely defines this year for me.

There were other defining moments, too, though - my running Dante's first 5K with him was certainly one of those. His quote at mile 2 - "This is the best day of my life"- will stay with me forever - a thought I've had at so many moments while running, and to hear him say it out loud was just such an affirmation of all the amazing and wonderful things that running has brought into my life, and I can only hope that he'll have the opportunity to realize that many times over.

My comeback from the pre-Boston-training injury seemed like it was on a pretty great track when I ran the Ocean's Run Half in March. I didn't all-out race it, but I gave it the best effort I felt up to giving it, and it worked out really well, giving me a huge boost of confidence for Boston.

That boost of confidence was amplified with the Quonset Point 10-miler a few weeks later - which I ran with my friends as the second half of a 20-mile training run. That was my second and final 20-miler of my Boston 'training,' and I ran better than I ever imagined I'd run, even in the absolutely horrible conditions (cold, and pouring rain the entire time).

I even managed to pull off an age-group award. I knew Boston would still be tough, given that I had only really trained for about 8 weeks, but I felt better about being able to get through it.

Boston itself was everything I imagined it would be. It was challenging, it was incredibly emotional, it was a victory in every sense of the word - but most importantly, it was what I needed it to be. It was my chance to reclaim my Boston Marathon finish line. And I am so incredibly glad that I was able to fight my way back and get there. It was not an easy road, but I think that made the reward that much more meaningful.

In the middle of all that was also Dante's second 5K, the Katie DeCubellis race in June, where he placed 3rd in his age group, and we took home what felt like a truckload of raffle prizes - a really fun day for both of us.

And despite saying I was only going to do one marathon a year from now on, I needed to redeem my terrible run in Boston, and signed up for the Philadelphia Marathon, and training kicked off in late summer. The first 8 weeks were flawless. I ran every workout, I hit every training pace, and I felt fantastic.

The second 8 weeks was a different story, one filled with injury interruptions, missed long runs, and a complete absence of speedwork. I did complete the majority of the final 6 weeks of the plan, though (including two half marathons - Surftown and Newport - that were run as part of longer training runs) and was still able to get my redemption in Philly.

It wasn't the PR I had originally been shooting for, but it was a great race (and a really fun weekend!), and I'm very proud of the outcome.

I also managed to come in 1st in my age group in the RI Triple Crown series (and second female overall), which was a nice little bonus, especially given that I ran all three of the half marathons with less than optimal preparation.

And on the road to Philly, I also got involved in this little race my running club was planning, and that little race turned into a half marathon with 600 registered runners, nearly 500 of whom showed up and ran the race, despite the fact that it was on the same day that a Nor'Easter blew through.

Being one of the race organizers for that event was some of the hardest work I've ever done in my life, but also the most fun. It wasn't anything I really inteded to do, but I'm so glad that I sort of fell into it, because it ended up being one of the highlights of my entire year, and also kind of led to me becoming President of my running club - something I never imagined I'd do, but I feel incredibly fortunate to have been given the opportunity, and am so excited about it.

I finished out the year running Dante's 3rd 5K with him - the Jingle Bell run on the beach. And seeing him set almost a 2-minute PR was definitely one of the other highlights of my year, and a great way to close out the calendar.

I've gone through a lot of emotional upheaval following the completion of Gansett and Philly, and a severe case of post-race blues, but what's saving me is just getting out there and running for the sake of running.

There is a part of me that's itching to identify and chase down another goal, but there's another part of me that just isn't ready, and can't quite muster the mental and emotional energy that kind of goal-chasing requires.

And on top of that, I'm also dealing with an IT band/hamstring issue that won't quite go away, even with cutting back on my mileage and going to PT and acupuncture. So after running 6.79 miles yesterday morning (I needed the .79 to end the year on a nice round number), I decided I need to take at least a couple of weeks off to let this thing resolve itself, before it turns into anything really serious.

So I'll begin 2015 without running, much like I did 2014. And although I'm going to miss the emotional clarity my runs have been affording me, I know it's what I need to do right now. With no races on the horizon, and no training plan to follow, there's no reason to push through and risk injury. Hopefully a few short weeks will do the trick, and when I find my way back out on the road, I'll figure out where I'm going to go from there.

This will be the first year since 2011 that I won't spend the winter months training for a spring marathon, and it feels odd, but I'm also kind of happy to have the break.

Less running means more time to go out with these lovely women and take blurry yellow selfies : )

Lots of question marks for 2015, but I'm ok with that. I've learned time and again that even when you do have things all planned out in your head (and on paper), reality doesn't always cooperate, so I'm stepping back and letting things just unfold for a little while, and it feels surprisingly good.

Here's to the unknown, and to another year of learning, growing, and friendship, which I realized this year are the most important things I get out of this amazing sport.

December 09, 2014

I know most people think they'd never hear me say these words, but when I woke up Sunday morning, I really didn't feel like going for a run. I was tired, it was cold and windy, and I was seriously lacking motivation.

Luckily I had plans to meet my friends to run and go for coffee afterward, so I bundled up and headed out.

And of course once I started running, I felt a hundred times better, and was so glad I didn't blow it off. We ran and talked, and kept to a nice easy pace like I had wanted to, and went for a post-run coffee and talked some more, and it was the perfect way to start my day.

As we ran, I debated whether or not I was going to do the 5K on the beach with Dante as I had been planning. It was so windy and cold, and I knew it would be even windier (and colder) on the beach. I didn't want the less than ideal conditions to make it a miserable experience for him.

But he's a tough little kid, and ultimately I felt like he'd be fine, so I decided to go for it.

I forgot to wear my Garmin, and the whole race is run on the beach (you go back and forth a couple of times), so I have no idea what our mile splits were, and I don't really care. I'm pretty sure we made it just about an entire mile without him having to stop, but then we stopped and walked a bunch of times during the final 2 miles.

I let him call the shots, as I've done in the other races we've run together. We had some laughs about how crazy the wind was, especially when we were running into it. And we both commented on how cool the beach looks in the winter - such a different feel to it.

Without a watch, I really had no idea how long it was taking us, but I had guessed we'd finish in around 40 minutes. So when we got within sight of the clock and I saw that it was just under 37 minutes, I yelled at him to "Go, go, go!!! This is going to be your fastest 5K EVER!"

And he listened. He sprinted into the finish in 37:04 - and then promptly had to sit down on the sand to catch his breath. I told him that's how you're supposed to feel at the end of a race :-)

This is a very, very small race (less than 50 finishers), so there wasn't a lot of fanfare afterward, but we went inside and he enjoyed his post-race clam chowder, donuts, and hot chocolate, and we stayed for the awards, too. Since it's such an incredibly small race, my 37-minute finish actually put me 2nd in my age group - I don't think that would happen at ANY other 5K ever.

It was a fun event for us, though, and I'm so glad we did it. I am honestly every bit as proud of his PR as I've ever been of one of my own. And of course now that he's seen that if he keeps up with this, he can get better at it, he's already looking forward to his next race - and now Gabe wants to do one, too.

I remember a few years ago thinking about how awesome it would be when my kids were old enough to run with me. And now that they are - it's even better than I imagined it would be.

Jingle Bell 5K on the beach -

37:04, 11:57 pace, 2-minute PR

I'm not going to be chasing a PR of my own this weekend, but I am looking forward to getting out and running my own 10K race in Newport, and hope to have a fun race and a decent finish time.

Still feeling somewhat lost and aimless post-marathon, but trying to settle in and get used to running just because. Because it makes me happy, because it brings me peace, because it clears my head, because it feeds my soul, because it lifts my spirits. Because right now, that's what I need.

December 03, 2014

I'm sad the race is over. I'm anxious about what I'm going to do next. I'm happy to be running just for the sake of running, but antsy to get back to training with a purpose, too.

Basically, I'm all over the place.

And it's been a stressful few weeks for other reasons, too, so I'm truly thankful just to be able to run - my head and my heart desperately need the clarity that running affords me, and I'm craving it more than ever. Truthfully, it's proving very difficult to not run more than I should.

I know that I need to be smart and recover well from this race, or I'll pay the price, and I'm giving it my best effort. I waited until 6 days after the race to run again, and ran 7 miles, and felt fantastic.

And this week I've run twice so far, and will run tomorrow also, but am keeping my runs to 4 miles, so that I can get in a long run of 10 this weekend while still keeping my weekly mileage total on the low end.

Where I'm not doing so well is pacing. I know that I should really be doing these runs at slower, easy paces. And I've set out each time with the intention of doing so.

But the aforementioned stress and anxiety work their way through my body, and before I know it, I'm seeing nothing but 7s on my watch. Every run I've done this week has ended up with an average pace between 7:30 and 7:45.

It's not feeling difficult - maybe just slightly challenging - but I mostly feel great running those paces. But then after I finish, I think about how I should have focused on really taking it easy instead.

To that end, I'm going to try to run with some slower-paced friends this weekend, so they can keep me honest and keep me to an easier, more conversational pace. And of course the company will be nice, too : )

And in an effort to combat my post-race blues, I went and found three races that I'm going to run this month. This weekend is the first one, but it's a Christmas 5K (on the beach) that I'll be running with Dante, so it'll be a truly easy run/walk.

Next weekend will be only my second 10K ever, and I'm really looking forward to it. And anyone who reads this blog with any regularity knows that I'd be a big fat liar if I said I was just going to 'get out there and see what happens.'

I'll be three weeks out from Philly at that point, and judging by how good I feel right now, I know I'll feel good enough next weekend to get out there and race. It'll be interesting to see how it turns out. My 10K PR is 44:09 - it would be nice if I could even come close to that.

And to close out the month and the year, I'm going to run the Nooseneck 18K the day after Christmas. I've only run it one other time, and that time it was in the spring, when it was held as a fundraiser shortly after Boston 2013.

It's a seriously challenging, hilly course, but I've always liked a good challenge. And the post-race party is one of the best around, so you get a nice reward after all those hills.

So that's where I'm at post-Philly - looking forward to my three upcoming races, and just going to do my best to muddle through the days in between. And trying to get myself into the holiday spirit, too. I was pretty distracted all through November, so the countdown to Christmas has really snuck up on me.

As for what the new year brings - I have no idea. I'm in a spot where I don't want to make too many long-term plans, so I'm going to try not to think beyond December. I've got too many other things on my mind at the moment.

And I'm also going to remain very thankful for all that running brings to my life. That's never been more apparent to me than it is right now.

November 25, 2014

I got my redemption in Philly. Even though it wasn't exactly the race I had originally hoped it would be, it was still an amazing day, and an amazing weekend, and one I'll remember for a long time.

And I have to say - shout out to the city of Philadelphia, which puts on a great race! Extremely well-organized, beautiful course, great volunteers, and great crowd support. I don't know if I'll run it again, just because there are so many other races I want to do, but I'd absolutely recommend it to anyone looking to run a big-city marathon.

I'd kind of like my next marathon to be a smaller one, though. I've now done Boston twice, followed by Philly, and although there are some things I like about the bigger races, I think I'm happiest with a slightly smaller crowd (along the lines of Hartford).

I was ready for the big race experience this time around, though, and was so happy to finally get on the train Friday morning. My train ride was uneventful (and blissfully quiet), and I was able to check into the hotel as soon as I got there, which was great.

I waited a little while for Erica, my roommate for the weekend, and when she got there we headed over to the Expo to pick up our packets and say hi to the Another Mother Runner team.

It was so great to see Sarah and Dimity again - I talk to them often via email, but haven't actually seen them in nearly 2 years, so it's been a while. And we met some other mother runners who I've only talked with virtually - always fun to finally meet people live and in person. And anytime I meet another mother runner, it's always like chatting with an old friend - which is a testament to the incredible community that SBS and Dimity have created.

Saturday was a very restful day, which was perfect. I did a short shakeout run in the morning, and it was fun to run down past the start/finish area. I took the time to go up the "Rocky Steps", too - very cool to look out over the race site from up there. The few miles I ran felt great, and I knew I was ready to get out there and really run the next day.

We stopped by the Expo again in the morning, just to say hi (and to deliver some cookies to all the women working the AMR booth for the day), scoped out the amazing Reading Terminal for what we were going to eat post-race on Sunday (didn't want to eat anything heavy the day before the race), and spent the afternoon with our feet up, watching movies and chatting and hydrating. It was perfect.

Our dinner Saturday night was super fun - delicious pasta at a great Italian restaurant, and lots of laughs with a great group of mother runners, including SBS and Dimity. I'm so glad we were all able to get together, and it was fun to meet even more women from the mother runner 'tribe.'

Dinner was done early, and I was asleep by 10pm. We had gotten all our gear ready earlier in the afternoon, so all that was left to do was hopefully get a good night's sleep, wake up on time, eat, and head out.

I woke up in a panic at 3:15am, thinking I had overslept, but I saw what time it was, breathed a sigh of relief, and went back to sleep. But I was up before my alarm, so went down to the lobby to get in line for Starbucks, which was opening at 5am.

I was the second person in line, and I'm glad I was, because a few minutes later, there were about 20 people behind me. I grabbed my bagel and coffee and brought them back upstairs and forced myself to eat the whole thing, even though I wasn't the least bit hungry.

Staying half a mile from the start was awesome. We walked over and got there right at 6am, as planned. We had to wait half an hour for the portapotties, which was kind of a drag, but thankfully it wasn't a really cold morning, so waiting around wasn't uncomfortable.

After that wait, it was time to head over to my corral and get lined up. I had worn a throwaway fleece jacket and fleece pants, which I left on the side of the road, and I had thought I'd want a long-sleeve shirt over my short sleeves and arm warmers for the first few miles, but it was feeling pretty comfortable, so I ditched the long sleeves before the start, too.

I teared up several times standing in the corral - I always do before a big race like that. It's so emotional finally being on that starting line. After all the waiting and waiting and waiting, those last 20 minutes or so seemed to fly by, and before I knew it, we were off.

The weather was absolute perfection. It was in the low 40s, and would likely stay there for the entire time that I was on the course. That is ideal running weather, and the outfit I had settled on was perfect for it. I knew I wouldn't be too cold or too warm, and I was so relieved that we were being treated to such great conditions.

My plan to start the race conservatively hit a little snag when I ran the first mile in 7:36. Oops.

Rookie mistake, and I knew I needed to fix it quickly. But I also knew one fast mile wasn't going to ruin my race, so as long as I reeled myself in to a slower pace, I'd be ok. And I did a great job for most of the rest of the first half, with my splits coming in at 8:29, 8:11, 8:14, 8:07, 8:50 (short walk at water stop), 8:18, and 8:00 through mile 8.

But I think my issues later in the race partly stem from the fact that I picked it up a little too early. I had planned to hold back until at least mile 12, but instead dropped down to sub-8s a bit earlier. Miles 9 through 13 came in at 7:36, 7:50, 7:53, 7:55, and 7:59. I felt great, and I thought that since I was just below an 8-minute pace (except for that 7:36 mile), it was ok that I was pushing it a little bit here. In retrospect, maybe it wasn't....

Passing near the finish line at the halfway point, which can potentially be a little tough mentally, didn't bother me at all. I was on top of the world at that point. I felt fabulous, I was loving my splits, it was a beautiful day, and I was having a great time.

I was soaking it all in, and loving the course and the spectators - with the exception of mile 6, which was a stretch of road with extremely uneven pavement, where I felt like I had to constantly keep my eyes on the road, for fear or twisting an ankle or tripping and falling. That stretch was also packed with spectators, and although the cheers and support were nice, it felt like the crowds were really encroaching on the road, and I felt very claustrophobic, and did a bit of dodging and weaving to get around slower runners.

The two most significant hills on the course (miles 8 and 10) didn't present too much of a challenge for me. They were big enough to be noticeable, but not enough to really slow me down, and I passed quite a few people as I made my way up. And it was nice knowing that there weren't really any other big hills on the course after that point - great to get them out of the way early.

Looking at the course map before the race, I was a little concerned about the very long out and back stretch from mile 14 to 25. There's something similar to that in Hartford, and I found it very mentally draining, and hoped this wouldn't be the same. And for a while, it wasn't.

It isn't the most exciting stretch of road, but it is pretty, as it's run all along the Schuylkill River. The crowds were a little thinner here, and I decided to listen to some music for a little while, and for several miles, I was really enjoying the quiet and my tunes and cruising along.

And at this point, as I had felt for most of the race, I found myself thinking that I 'only' had 12 miles left to go. I had even felt that way at mile 10 ('only' 16 miles to go!). The miles just seemed to be flying by, and I was so optimistic and so driven to just get it done, I was happy just to be out there and be able to run.

Miles 14 through 19 continued to feel great, both physically and mentally. I clicked them off in 7:41, 7:59, 7:51, 7:58, 7:42, and 7:52. Each time I crossed a timing mat, I knew my split was being sent out into cyberspace, to all the people who were tracking me, and I felt so happy that I was doing what I set out to do, and loved that they would know that.

The course has a somewhat strange little out and back section that crosses over a small bridge at around mile 17, and friends who had run the race before told me that little section really annoyed them, but it didn't bother me at all. I was still feeling great.

But part of the reason I was feeling great is that I mistakenly thought that once we crossed back over the bridge, we'd be turning around to head back toward the city. Not so much. I clearly should have studied the course map a little better.

It was discouraging to know that we still had to keep heading out on the endless out and back, but I did my best to not let it throw me off, and held it together for mile 19, which I ran in 7:52, and mile 20 - 7:49.

And shortly after mile 20, we finally, finally got to turn around for the back portion of the out and back. It should have energized me and pushed me to pick it up even more. That was my plan. I did it in Boston a few years ago, and I hoped I could do it again here.

But this, I think, is where everything caught up to me - starting to push the pace a few miles too early; the two and a half weeks I had to take off; the fact that I hadn't done any speed work for the second half of my training; the fact that I missed an 18-miler and a 20-miler; the fact that I wasn't able to run my last two 20-milers as dress rehearsals (i.e., no stopping to walk for water/Gu). It all came crashing down in the form of exhaustion and legs that felt like lead.

I ran mile 21 in 8:12, mostly because I took a pretty decent walk break at the water stop. That little break rejuvenated me enough that I was able to run 22 in 7:38, but that was pretty much all the pep I had left.

Miles 23 to 26 were a battle. I fought for every step. I felt myself clomping along, and tried as hard as I could to focus on my form and be more efficient - the things that usually help me at the end of a race - but it just wasn't happening.

At the halfway point, I had thought a PR was a possibility, but as I saw all those final mile splits coming in above the 8-minute mark, I knew it wasn't going to happen today. But I also knew that I wasn't going to quit completely. I wasn't going to limp into the finish. I was going to continue to push forward and run as fast as I possibly could, even though it wasn't anywhere near as fast as I had hoped to be running at that point.

I knew I could still finish with a time that I'd be proud of, and I wasn't anywhere near ready to let that go.

And given how rotten I felt, I'm actually kind of proud that I was even able to run the splits I did for those last three miles - 8:16, 8:32, and 8:15 (and a teeny tiny kick of 7:45 pace for the final .2).

It was nothing but stubbornness and determination that powered me through that final stretch, and I'm glad I have those two qualities in spades, because it meant I was able to finish in a very respectable 3:32:59.

I didn't get my PR, but I did assure myself a spot for Boston 2016 (with 12 minutes to spare), and I did finish with pride, because I gave it my all.

You always second-guess yourself after a big effort like this - could I have pushed harder? Did I give in to the fatigue too easily? But I keep going over it again and again, and I have no doubt that I ran for all I was worth, and I left nothing in the tank. When I crossed that finish line, I was done.

On that day, I ran the absolute best race I had in me, and that is all I can ever ask of myself.

As usual, I spent the entire walk through the finisher's chute crying on and off. The emotion of standing on the starting line is nothing compared to the emotion of finishing. And you might think that when you've already done this 5 times before, that effect is lessened - but you'd be wrong.

There are no words to describe the mix of elation and exhaustion and pride - it completely envelops you, and it's one of the greatest things I've ever experienced (which is part of the reason I keep going back for more!)

We were fortunate enough to get late checkout at the hotel, so I was able to hobble back and shower and change, and walked over to Reading Terminal to meet up with Erica and another friend and grab myself some food for the train ride home.

I also ran into Sarah and another mother runner at the train station, which was a great way to end the weekend.

I have to admit that there is a small part of me that is disappointed with the outcome of my race, only in the sense that everything else about the day was so perfectly aligned to make it a PR kind of day - the weather, the course, and my fueling and hydration, which were spot on. It's a shame that my legs didn't quite cooperate.

But what I take away from this race and this training cycle is that I am absolutely 100% certain that if I remain healthy and complete my next marathon training cycle in its entirety, with no injuries and no time off, I will get that sub-3:30. Through the first 8 weeks of training, I was right there - hitting and usually exceeding my target paces.

And even with that interruption in my training, and having to scale back for the second half of the plan, I was still able to go out and run a 3:32 - which was, realistically, pretty much what I figured I'd do, even though I was still secretly hoping for a PR.

That outcome under those less-than-ideal circumstances gives me so much confidence in my abilities that even as I'm still walking around with sore legs and tired feet, I'm already thinking about how I'm going to get out there and attack the next one.

I will never get tired of doing this. The emotional roller coaster, the constant fear of injury, the early morning wakeups, the grueling workouts at the track, the hours and hours spent on the roads in all kinds of weather, both good and downright awful - it's all completely and totally worth it, and I will keep doing it for as long as my body cooperates - which will hopefully be a very long time.

And the other thing I take away from this race is that it was just a really, really fun weekend. I spent time with some great old friends, and made a whole bunch of new friends, had a lot of good laughs, ate some fabulous food, and did a lot of relaxing. The whole experience - including the race - was good for the soul, and I'm so thankful that I was able to do it.

November 20, 2014

I signed up for Philly last spring looking for redemption, and I'm still hoping I can get it.

As I got ready to run Boston this past April, I knew full well that it wasn't going to be the race I wanted it to be. Coming back from a months-long injury layoff and only completing 8 weeks of so-so training was not the way to prepare myself to run 26.2 miles, and if it had been any other race, I wouldn't have even done it.

But it wasn't any other race, and I did do it, and it was as difficult as I knew it would be. And even before I stood on the starting line in Hopkinton, I was already plotting what race I could use to redeem myself - where I could hopefully stay healthy and complete an entire training cycle and run the way I knew I was capable of running. Philly seemed like the perfect choice.

The plan got slightly off-track with my injury back in September, and I can't say it's been a flawless training cycle by any means. But I have managed to get mostly back on track during these past few weeks, and the way I'm running right now, I feel almost as strong and ready as I did before I ran Boston 2013 (which was the best I've ever felt going into a marathon).

So to even feel close to that point is pretty great, and although I've had some ups and downs this week - waiting leaves way too much time for the doubt to creep in - a great 5-mile run this morning turned my mood around completely, and I am feeling so ready to be on that starting line.

My goal when I embarked on this training plan was a 3:25 marathon, which is a 7:49 pace. And my strategy was going to be to run the first half right around an 8:00 pace and then work my way down to negative split the second half, and come in hopefully right around 3:25, but I would have been happy with anything between 3:25 and 3:30.

Given the little hiccup I faced last month, though, I feel I need to be more conservative in the first half, and am planning to start in the low 8s. I want the first 10 or 12 miles to feel really easy, and judging by how I've been running, a pace around 8:10 should feel easy.

After mile 12 or so, I'll gradually drop down every mile, and will hopefully hit a sub-8 pace within the first few miles after the halfway point. And if that continues to feel ok, I'll keep pushing and see just how much of a negative split I can pull off.

I feel like a 3:30-ish finish is a reasonable expectation, if all goes well. And unless I hit the wall, a BQ for 2016 (3:45) should be a certainty.

The weather looks like it's going to cooperate, which is extremely helpful! It will likely be chilly at the start, but not frigid, so one layer of throwaway clothes should be plenty. And low 50s is pretty close to my ideal temperature - perfect for short sleeves, armwarmers, and shorts.

My train departs bright and early tomorrow morning, and I know that stepping onto the train and getting on my way is going to feel so good, after enduring these days of waiting (and hardly any running).

Today is about packing, beginnning to hydrate (and carb load a bit), and focusing on positive thoughts.

I feel healthy, I feel strong, and I feel ready. There isn't much more I could ask for.

November 16, 2014

One bad run does not a bad marathon make, and I know that, which is why I wasn't really all that rattled by my unbelievably tough 13-miler last weekend. I was disappointed with it, but I knew it didn't mean anything, and I needed to just get back out there and make sure the next one was better.

And that's exactly what I did, despite not really setting myself up for success when I went out with friends Monday night and had a 'meal' that consisted of pumpkin beer and tortilla chips (and a small cup of soup before I had left the house) and stayed out 'til nearly 11pm. Given those circumstances, I wasn't expecting a whole lot with my Tuesday morning run, but I surprised myself.

I started at the beach at sunrise, because really, there's no better way to start the day.

I didn't have any plan in mind - just wanted to get in a decent 7-miler - but ended up running nearly perfect negative splits, starting in the low 8s, and ending with the last few miles at 7:32, 7:19, and 7:06. And the best part is that it was one of those runs where, even as I kept picking up the pace, I kept feeling stronger. The complete opposite of how I had felt on Sunday. It was fabulous, and just what I needed.

I had thought I might sneak in a few easy miles at lunchtime on Wednesday, but I woke up with a scratchy throat and feeling really rundown, so I opted to spend the afternoon on the couch with a cup of tea. Too close to race day to risk getting really sick, so I decided to be smart and give my body the rest it needed.

And I'm glad I did, because it rewarded me with another great run on Thursday. Five miles, with 3 at tempo. I ran the first one in 7:01, but then slowed down to 7:14 for the second one. That just wouldn't do, so I pushed harder for the last mile and finished it in 6:53.

Wrapped up the week with my long run, which felt short, as it should. The plan was for 10 miles at 7:49 pace, and I really focused on starting slow and building up to that goal pace, and I succeeded, running negative splits, and feeling great. My first mile was 8:10, second was 7:59, and so on and so on, until I ran the last few miles in 7:39, 7:27, and 7:16.

I feel like I have once again perfected the art of the negative split, and I know that will serve me very well as I take on the full 26.2 next week. I still can't quite believe that one week from today it'll all be done and I'll be on the train on the way home (hopefully celebrating).

These past few weeks have definitely renewed my confidence about how much fitness I was able to hold onto despite having to miss so many training runs, and I'm beyond grateful to be where I am right now.

Judging by the great runs I had this week, tapering seems to be agreeing with me. The only problem is that I have too much time on my hands and can't seem to get motivated to do anything constructive with it. I hear people joke about how their house is never as clean as when they're tapering for a big race. Um, not the case over here.

I think it's the combination of the taper/reduced training time plus not having any more Gansett-related tasks to fill my days that's making me feel slightly lost. Next week will see even less running, but I think the week is going to go by pretty fast, since I leave on Friday morning.

I'm looking forward to the race, and to the entire weekend. I get to see a bunch of great friends from the Another Mother Runner community, some of whom I've met before, but some who I've only talked with online. And I get to share my pre-race dinner with those friends and two of my running heroes - Sarah Bowen Shea and Dimity McDowell Davis.

The whole weekend is going to be such a great experience, and I'm hoping that all the socializing will help take my mind off the pre-race anxiety.

But all in all, I feel like I'm in a good place. My training got a little messed up, but I feel like I bounced back pretty well, and I can't say I feel quite as prepared as I did for Boston 2013 (when I had a pretty much perfect training cycle and felt way more than ready), but I'm pretty close to that point, and happy to be there.

November 09, 2014

Now that I no longer have Gansett planning as a distraction, I can devote all my nervous energy to that other little race I have scheduled this month - the one that once seemed so impossibly far away, but that I'm suddenly now tapering for.

It's been a strange training cycle, and I wish I hadn't had to miss all the workouts that I did, but I'm feeling like it hasn't thrown me off as much as I suspected it would. My crappy race at Gansett aside (and that can be attributed to a whole lot of factors), I'm running a lot stronger than I thought I'd be right now.

For my Tuesday run, I headed down to the beach for an easy out-and-back on Ocean Road. It was an absolutely lovely day, and without even really thinking about it, I ran a 7:45 pace for 7 miles. It was far easier running that stretch of road at that pace without 30mph winds driving rain and snow into my face.

I didn't really plan on running Wednesday, but felt like I needed to get out for a few miles in the afternoon, so after I dropped Carmine off at school I did one of my easy lunchtime loops of 4.5 miles. A slower run, but a nice run - just wanted to get out there in the beautiful weather (tank top and shorts, in November!), so I'm glad I did.

For Thursday, I checked what was on my training schedule. I'm not doing any speedwork at this point, but I wondered if I could do an actual tempo run at the prescribed pace. The schedule called for 5 miles at 7:19 pace. A couple months ago I could do that no problem, but I wasn't so sure I'd be able to pull it off now, but I wanted to try.

It was cool and rainy, and I'm still feeling slightly traumatized by my wet, cold, windy Gansett run, and was really tempted to wait and run Friday instead. But I stuck with the plan and headed out.

My first tempo mile came in at 7:15, and felt pretty good, so I was encouraged. The second mile was 7:14. Still feeling ok. Third mile - 6:57! I wondered if maybe that was a tad too fast, and I did stop and walk for about 20 seconds after that mile.

But then I got going again, and ran mile 4 in 7:06, and although I was feeling pretty wiped out, I knew I could stick it out for the last mile, and I did - 6:55.

Running those splits gave me such an enormous confidence boost going into my taper weeks. I've been really doubting my ability to run fast, but it occurred to me that I haven't really tried to run fast in the past couple of weeks, because I was afraid of re-injuring something. Testing it out on that tempo felt right, and I'm so glad that it went well.

But as great as that run went, this morning's was just the opposite. The long run for this week was a 13-miler at 7:49 pace. I figured I'd run the Gansett course - it's such a nice, fast course to run, it's hard for me to resist, especially when I have 13 on the schedule.

And I figured that I'd be able to run 7:49 pretty easily. But I haven't slept well this week, and was really dragging all morning, and honestly not even looking forward to the run, despite the beautiful weather today.

As I feared, it was kind of ugly. I was tired almost from the start, and not enjoying myself at all. The spots where I felt good were far outweighed by the many, many, many spots where I felt downright awful. I was tired, my legs felt dead, and I stopped to walk several times. The sleep deprivation that had built up all week finally caught up with me, and I was seriously tempted to cut the run short.

I trudged through all 13 miles, though, and I managed to run a 7:43 pace, but I fought for every step of it, and was so very glad when I was done.

I'm not letting it get to me, though. I went into the run feeling exhuasted, so it's no surprise that I got more tired as the miles accumulated. And I'm definitely not letting one crappy run lead me to believe that I'm doomed in Philly.

What I need to do is focus on getting some good rest over the next two weeks, logging the miles I need to log, and preparing myself mentally for my 6th 26.2-mile run. As long as I keep moving forward, I'll be fine.

November 03, 2014

I've learned a lot these past 4 months about what it takes to plan a race, but nothing could have prepared me for how incredibly rewarding it feels to see your vision become a reality on race day.

All of last week I was an absolute bundle of nerves. Taking care of last-minute tasks, wrapping up loose ends, and preparing for what was sure to be a really busy weekend.

My dining room, full of race shirts one night last week, as I was getting things ready for packet pickup.

And the increasingly foreboding weather forecast just made things even more interesting, as it became clear that we'd be battling the elements in a big way, with a Nor'easter on its way up the coast.

It felt good when Saturday finally arrived and we were ready to get the show on the road. We met up early Saturday morning to put shirts in bags for packet pickup, and barely had everything set up before people started showing up to pick up their numbers. But once we got through a few registrants, we got a system in place, and things went smoothly the rest of the day, with nearly 200 runners picking up their bags.

I hadn't volunteered to work at packet pickup that day, but ended up staying from 9am until just after 3pm. I was happy to be there, and it felt good to be helping, so I didn't see any reason to leave, even though I knew full well that being on my feet for 6+ hours the day before running a half was not a good idea (and kept being reminded of that fact by all my friends).

Saturday night was a combination of gathering last-minute supplies for race day, making scheduling plans for the morning, and also trying to get my personal things together. And the weather added some more excitement, as all of the porta-potties at the start/finish area blew over in the 50mph wind gusts. Thanks to one of our amazing race committee members, they were all upright and secured Saturday night, and stayed that way for the remainder of the event.

The howling winds woke me up around 3:30am, and I was too wound up to get back to sleep, so it was a ridiculously early start to the day for me. It may have been daylight savings, but I definitely did not get my extra hour.

Getting registration set up Sunday morning went much quicker, since it was our second time around, and we were up and running smoothly as soon as the first people began to arrive at 9am. Again, I hadn't planned on working the registration area, but was too nervous and anxious to just sit around. And it was also just really fun to be there and talk with everyone coming in.

The weather was every bit as bad as they had predicted it would be. The wind was insane, and it was raining, and it was cold. But runners were still arriving in a steady stream, and we even ended up with about 25 race-day registrants.

I looked out at the hotel banquet room a few times, and it was just the greatest feeling, to see all those people, and to know that we had brought them all there.

When we were within half an hour of the race start, I got myself changed and ready to run. So I had now spent an additional 4 hours on my feet. But I wouldn't have done it differently - I wanted to be there working, and my race had become so secondary at that point.

Standing at the start was awesome - so great to look out over the crowd gathered there - but also absolutely freeezing!!! Wind-driven cold rain right in our faces. But we started right on time, and as soon as I started running, I calmed down and got ready to just enjoy the miles. I'm thankful that I was able to be out there and run and experience the event as a participant - it was really fun, despite the awful conditions.

I haven't even downloaded my splits yet, but I know that for the first part of the race, I did what I planned to do, and ran in the 7:40s. The wind was at our backs for miles 1 - 7, so that pace felt pretty easy, and I chatted with a few club members who were running nearby, and those miles went by quickly.

We had rain - and some snow - for the entire race. At times it was just a sprinkle, but for most of the time, it was pretty steady, and I was soaked, and dreading having to turn around and have all that precipitation driven into my face by the headwind I knew we'd be facing on the way back.

I started feeling tired around mile 7. My legs just were not cooperating anymore, and I knew I was paying the price for all the work I had done that morning and the day before. And I knew there was no way I was going to run a faster second half. It just wasn't going to happen, and I was totally ok with it. I just wanted to finish in a halfway decent time.

Heading back into the wind sucked, as I knew it would. It completely drained me of any energy that I may have had left, and I even stopped and walked for a second at the two water stops on the way back. I had a couple miles that were over an 8-minute pace here, but I didn't care.

At mile 11, I finally got a little bit of energy back, and I was able to get back to around 7:40 and 7:30 for my last two miles, and it felt nice to be able to finish strong, even though I was feeling so beat up. I crossed just a few seconds over 1:44, and was happy to be done and get my medal.

If it had been a nicer day, I would have hung around the finish line and watched people come in, but it was way too cold and uncomfortable, and I needed to get myself into some dry clothes, so I didn't waste any time getting inside.

The rest of the day is a blur, but it went great. People came inside and stayed warm and dry, and ate a hot meal, and everyone seemed pleased and happy with everything.

The sense of relief I felt at knowing that we had pulled it off - with flying colors - is nearly impossible to describe. The weather may have sucked, but everything else about the day went as well as it could have.

I had no intentions whatsoever of getting as involved in the planning of this race as I did, but I am so glad that it turned out that way. It's been an incredible learning experience, it's been a lot of work, but it's also been a ton of fun, and it's allowed me to get to know some members of my running club a lot better, too, which has been great.

We had an amazing team, and it was awesome to see everyone pitch in with their own talent and their own specialties, and so exciting to see it all come together just as we had envisioned it.

No question about it - the first annual Gansett Half is one that people are going to remember for a long time, thanks to the weather conditions. But hopefully they'll also remember it because it was such a well-organized, fun event. Judging by the feedback coming in on our Facebook page, that seems to be the case.

And I know that it's just going to get bigger and better from here on out.

My numbers for this race are the least of my concern, so the numbers that really count -

October 26, 2014

After my miraculously quick recovery from my adductor strain, and the subsequent 20-miler that I was able to run last Sunday, my attitude and outlook completely changed. I had been feeling cautious and nervous and uncertain about whether or not I'd run Philly at all, and thinking that even if I did run it, it would be a slower effort, and I'd have to let go of any time goals and just run for the experience.

But after I pulled off that 20 last Sunday, everything shifted. I allowed myself to get excited again. I allowed myself to look around on the race website and check out the elevation profile and the course map, and confirm my hotel reservations and look into train tickets.

And then I ran again Tuesday, and averaged a 7:47 pace for 8 miles. I can't say it was easy - the 7:47 that would have felt easy a month ago felt pretty challenging - but I did it, and that boosted my confidence even more, so I allowed myself to think that maybe I'd still be able to get BQ for 2016 (I need to run a 3:45).

And then on Thursday, I ran 10 miles at a 7:42 pace, and it felt easier than the Tuesday run. I ran farther and faster, but it felt easier (despite the fact that a few of those miles were run directly int a headwind that was blowing about 25 - 30mph, courtesy of the remnants of a Nor'easter that had come thorugh the night before, causing me to literally hold onto my hat a few times, so it wouldn't blow away).

So then I allowed myself to think that even though I'm certain a PR is still overreaching a bit, I may have a shot at coming at least close to my current PR of 3:30.

And then yesterday, this happened -

20 miles, at an average 7:58 pace. WHAT???

I went into that 20-miler hoping that I could run the 8:04 pace that was on my training schedule. Even though I'm not doing speedwork, I was thinking I'd like to try to at least do the tempo runs and hit the goal paces for the long runs for these final few weeks. And 20 miles at an 8:00 pace is something I've done before, so I felt like I had to get out there and give it my best shot.

Nothing in the world like starting a run at this spot at sunrise - I'll never get tired of it.

I was very careful to start conservatively, and my first mile was in the 8:40s, and the second mile 8:22, but then I quickly dipped down to the low 8s for the remainder of the first half of the run. And I was feeling really good. The weather was perfect, and I ran into a bunch of other runners from the club - always nice to see familiar faces out there when you're running solo - and I was just cruising along and having so much fun.

I ran the first 7 miles as one loop, and after a quick stop at my car, headed back out to run the Gansett Half course (giving myself every advantage to run a faster second half). As soon as I hit mile 10, I started to see the sub-8s on my watch. I worried a little bit about whether or not I'd be able to keep it up for 10 miles, but I knew there was only one way to find out, so I kept at it.

And happily, I was able to keep it up, even running the last 5 miles in 7:48, 7:46, 7:42, 7:44, and 7:32. Those last two miles were challenging, but I also finished feeling like I could have kept going. And I'm only a little embarrassed to admit that I shed a few tears when I finished and looked back at my splits and my overall pace.

To think that 4 weeks ago I was literally limping around my house, and in excrutiating pain every time I stood up from a seated position - and to now find myself able to run the fastest 20-miler of my entire life, and feel GOOD when I finished.... It's way beyond what I imagined I'd be able to do right now, and I was completely overwhelmed with gratitude. And pretty excited, too!

I still have little voices in my head that remind me that despite this amazing 20-miler, my training has been inconsistent, and I've only gotten in 8 weeks of speedwork (and won't be doing anymore), so I'm not in the shape I wanted to be in at this point - but the shape I'm in is pretty damn good, considering what's happened the past few weeks.

I may be slightly off track, but it's not making me doubt my ability to run well - what it's doing is making me even more aware that I need to be cautious and start slow, so that I can finish strong - if I can do that, I feel confident that I can still get out there and run close to the race that I wanted to run.

And I feel like unless I have a meltdown of epic proportions, I should be able to get my third Boston Qualifier. I know full well that I need a few minutes for a cushion if I want to not just qualify, but also get in and run it, but I still feel like I should be able to manage that.

The one thing I know for certain is that I am finally back to being crazy excited to run this race! I had one of those moments last week where it hit me that "oh my god, I'm running another marathon in a few weeks!" The injury rehab has had me so distracted that the weeks have just slipped away, and I'm suddenly finding myself nearly at the point of tapering.

It's good to feel optimistic and confident and happy and excited again. I was keeping all that under wraps the past few weeks, but it's back full force now! Training for and running a marathon never gets old, and it never loses the magic. So glad that I'm going to be able to experience it another time.

October 20, 2014

Remember how great I was feeling after the Newport Half last weekend? I raced a half marathon - a true, all-out race effort - without so much as a hint of pain or discomfort. I was healed. I was ready to get back to training, and hopefully get back on track to at least come close to my original Philly goal. Things were looking good!

And then I went for a run, and they weren't looking so good anymore.

My hip and piriformis felt totally fine, but somewhere around mile 2.5 of my run, I felt a strange discomfort in my thigh. It felt unusually tight. I chalked it up to the fact that I was only a few days out from a race effort, and continued on. But then about a half mile later, the strange discomfort turned into a sharp pain. A sharp, stabbing pain.

No runner (well, no person, really) wants to experience a sharp, stabbing pain. Somewhat in disbelief, I stopped to walk for a minute, hoping that it would miraculously just go away. Because that's what always happens to sharp, stabbing pains, right?

Of course it didn't, but I still had a mile to go to get back to my car, so I jogged/walked back, and it hurt - way more than my hip had ever hurt. I was honestly concerned that I had torn a muscle or ligament - and baffled as to how I had gone to feeling so good to feeling so bad so quickly.

The good thing about rehabbing an injury is that you've usually got PT appointments lined up at least a week or two out, so I was already scheduled to be going in the next day, so tried not to completely freak out, but also spent some time googling "groin pull" and "adductor strain," which didn't help with the 'not freaking out.'

PT the next day confirmed that it was most likely an adductor strain, and she treated it with the same stuff she used for my hip - Graston and ART. It worked wonders for that, so I was hopeful it would do the same for this. But still concerned.

Another appointment I had already scheduled was for acpuncture, on Saturday morning. I spent the entire treatment focusing my thoughts on healthy, strong muscles, and all things positive. I daydreamed about running; I visualized running Philly. Yes, it sounds weird and 'out there,' but when you're lying there with your arms and legs and feet stuck full of needles, weird things happen to your mind. Weird, but good.

I walked out of that appointment feeling amazingly hopeful, for no reason other than I just felt that way. I couldn't explain it.

And physically, my leg did feel better. The soreness was almost completely gone. Did I dare to try to run on it the next day?

The plan called for 20 miles. But I couldn't run 20 miles, could I? Just three days after I hurt so bad that I couldn't make it 4 miles?

I set out with a plan to run a 5-mile loop, so that if anything started hurting, I wouldn't be too far from my car, and could easily walk back. And if nothing started hurting, I'd run the loop again (and again?).

Truthfully, for as hopeful as I was feeling, I didn't know if I'd even make it a mile, judging by how bad I had felt three days earlier. But I brought my water and Gatorade and Gus, just in case.

I ran the first 5 miles, staying incredibly aware of how my leg was feeling, and being absolutely amazed that it felt completely and utterly fine. It was a beautiful morning - cool and dry - and I was running along the ocean, and couldn't stop thinking about how grateful I was just to be out there.

I completed the 5 miles and felt fabulous, and wondered if I could go for a longer loop this time, given how great I was feeling? I decided to try for an out-and-back, and see if I could make it 5 miles out and 5 miles back, and get myself to 15 miles total. That, I thought, would be fantastic.

I had started the run super slow, but gradually found my pace drifting down to the low 8s. I wasn't consciously trying to speed up - it was just where my legs kept wanting to settle. And I was feeling ok, so I just went with it for a while. The way back was a little tough, as the wind was in my face the whole way, and I did start to feel a little tired. But I got back to the car with exactly 15 miles on my Garmin.

Could I go for another 5? Shouldn't I just be happy with 15? If you read this blog at all regularly, you'll know that no, I couldn't just be happy with 15. I was still feeling ok, so I grabbed some more water and headed out again.

I knew my legs were getting tired, though, and I was worried about my form getting sloppy, which could lead to potentially aggravating already weak areas, so I went back to a much shorter, 2.5-mile loop. And once that was done, I knew that unless I was suddenly completely hobbled by pain, I'd be running 20 miles.

There was a little bit of tightness in the adductor as I finished those last few miles, but when I backed off on my pace and slowed down a little bit, it went away. If it had ever actually felt painful, I would have stopped. But it didn't, so I pushed on until my Garmin beeped 20.0. And I wished I wasn't alone, so I could celebrate with someone. Not only did I run 20 miles, but I was only 9 seconds off the average pace I was scheduled to run (8:28 instead of 8:19)!

Post-20-miler, there's some lingering soreness, but no pain. It feels like something that another round of Graston will take care of, and I've got that scheduled for tomorrow morning. And another acupuncture appointment for next weekend.

I had thought that if I couldn't get out there and chase down my PR at Philly, that I wouldn't want to run it at all. But now that I know it might still be possible, I'm feeling differently.

Even if it's not the race I had hoped it would be, it will still be a spectacular experience. Running 26.2 miles is always something to celebrate, and with the added bonus of spending some time hanging out with Another Mother Runner's SBS and Dimity (and hopefully a bunch of other mother runners, too!), this is a weekend I'd still like to make a reality.

It's tough to let go of goals, but when things are out of your control, there isn't much else you can do. This training cycle has taken a lot out of me, and my body is sending me plenty of signals, but one of the signals it's sending me now is that I may be down a bit, but I'm not out - not yet.

Where do I go from here? Wherever my body allows me to go.

I do know that what I will not be doing any more of is speedwork. Sprinting and an aggravated adductor do not make a happy pair, so my days at the track are over for now. And truthfully, I've already missed 4 weeks of speedwork, and there's only 5 more weeks to go (2 of which are taper), so any workouts I got in at this point probably wouldn't even make all that much of a difference.

So my goal now is to run as much as I can without getting hurt. And I'm going to keep thinking positive and keep doing everything I can to get to the starting line healthy, so I can cross the finish line the same way.